


slow dance into oblivion

by tasteslikeciel



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Character Study, Gen, M/M, Multi, Relationship Study, Slow Burn, radiodust - Freeform, will update tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteslikeciel/pseuds/tasteslikeciel
Summary: An exploration into a building relationship between Alastor and Angel Dust, from nothing to something, from acquaintances to friends. Maybe something more?A series of connected oneshots all centered around radiodust, in whatever form it decides to take.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	1. bar talk

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo
> 
> First time writing for these characters. It's rare I venture outside YGO to write anything, but I'm having fun with this haha! I was very interested in writing Alastor, but the banter between Husk and Angel ended up being too fun, so he wasn't in this as much as I intended. Well, I can do more later!

“So can I ask you a personal question?” 

Husk briefly glances at Angel Dust (his lone patron at the moment) seated at the bar out of the corner of his eyes before returning to the bottle of booze in his hands. His answer is immediate. 

“No.” 

“You an Al are pretty close, yeah?” Angel continues like Husk never answered at all, earning a grumble from the bar cat. “He like, owns you or whatever, right? Contractual obligation?” 

Husk’s ears fold back and his eyes narrow at nothing in particular. 

“Ain’t nothing of mine belongs to that bastard. I made a deal with the son of a bitch and that’s all you need to know about.” Husk snaps and casts Angel a disgruntled look, his standard frown deepening. “What the fuck do you care for anyway? I’m only here for the booze.” 

Angel offers up a shrug, eyes trailing to stare at the card patterns decorating Husk’s wings as a finger idly traces the rim of his martini glass. It’s filled with a pretty pink liquid he coaxed Husk into whipping up for him and he’s barely touched it. It was more an excuse to have a reason to sit at the bar than him wanting to pump sweet liquor into his system. 

“Eh, I dunno.” Angel shrugs and at Husk’s continued stare, he pouts a bit and throws up one set of his hands in defeat. “Okay, okay! It’s-... I mean, I barely know anything about the guy and we’re kinda livin together now? He’s this infamous, terrifying Overlord I hadn’t even heard of until like a week ago? I want to know more about him is all.” 

“No you don’t.” Husk insists with a roll of his eyes. “He’s not the sort of guy you want to get chummy with. The less you know, the better off you are. Besides, he’s picky.” 

“But that’s boring! Come on, can’t you tell me somethin? _Anything_???” Angel huffs out a sigh and slumps against the counter, smooshing his face into his hands. “I’ve tried to ‘ _play nice_ ’, but he hasn’t spoken to me since I offered to suck his dick.” 

Husk’s eyes bulge and he chokes on a swig of alcohol, promptly spluttering it everywhere in frantic coughs. He pounds a fist against his chest, desperately trying to expel the liquid searing his lungs while Angel falls into a pouty ramble. 

“It’s not like it’s _my_ fault, ya know?” Angel continues with a sour expression. He ignores Husk’s choking, lost in his own head. “Usually people take one look at all _this_ -” 

Angel pushes away from the counter a bit to make a flowing gesture down his own body and fluff up his hair a bit. It’s a bit of posturing for emphasis’s sake, but Husk is too busy tearing up to notice it. 

“-and they can’t get their pants off fast enough. And-... Well, Al’s pretty good-lookin, ya know? He even asked what I do! So of course I had to offer-” 

“Stop, _stop_!” Husk interrupts with a slam of his paw and one last desperate cough. His fur is standing on end and he stares at Angel like the spider’s grown an extra head. “You did _what_?!” 

It startles Angel a bit, who answers with some trepidation. “I, uh… I offered to suck his dick? W...why? Was that bad?” 

Husk falls back against the counter, a paw slapped over his face, and lets out hysterical laughter. 

“Holy shit, are you _trying_ to get yourself maimed? _Fuck_ , what I wouldn’t give to have seen the look on that bastard’s face!” Angel makes a face of his own as Husk’s shoulders shake, not quite understanding what’s so funny. “That’s hilarious what the fuck…” 

“I don’t see what’s so funny…” Angel huffs, arms crossing as he thinks back on it. Alastor’s expression had certainly been...interesting, to say the least. A short, unsure pause before a quick little ‘no’. It was cute, even. But funny? Not as much as Husk’s making it out to be. “Did I come on too strong or something? He’s probably the type who likes to wine and dine first or whatever.” 

Husk manages to regain control over himself and straightens up, but he’s still sporting an amused grin. “Too strong? Hah! Word of advice? Don’t do that again if you want to keep your arms. Alastor doesn’t like being touched.” 

That’s news to Angel. Alastor is always freely touching others and invading everyone’s personal space (except his), so Angel never considered touch to be an issue. He just thought maybe he pissed him off or something, but _oh_. This...presents a problem he’s not sure how to address. Angel is very touchy be it romantic, sexual, platonic, or whatever. How is he supposed to get to know Alastor if he can’t express himself through touch? The guy won’t even give him the time of day because of one lewd comment... 

“Hunh, weird...” is all he can think to say in response. 

Husk shrugs and goes back to his bottle of booze. “Everything about that guy is weird. Get used to it. Just don’t touch him and you’re fine.” 

Angel’s pout returns and he picks up his martini glass to swirl the pink liquid around. He considers downing the whole thing in one swallow and retiring to his room for the evening, but he’s stubborn and continues to think about Alastor and how he might somehow, someway, get the guy to stop ignoring him. But it’s a bit hopeless because he only knows three things about him: he’s cute, he’s powerful, and he doesn’t like being touched. 

He takes a sip of his martini. “Just so you know, the more you tell me not to makes me want to.” 

Husk’s amused smile falls and he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “What are you, some kind of contrarian? Or do you just got a death wish?” 

Angel shrugs. “What can I say? Al’s pretty cute and I’m interested. It’s fine if he doesn’t wanna sleep with me, but you an Niffty are friends with him, right? So, what’s the secret to winning him over? You gotta tell me _something_.” 

“I just did. _Don’t_.” 

“ ‘ _Don’t_ ’ isn’t an answer.” Angel argues and wags a finger at Husk. “Not touching isn’t one either. Can’t you tell me about somethin he’s into so I can find some common ground here? Help a whore out, will ya?” 

Husk’s eyes narrow and he turns away to take a swig out of his bottle. “Fuck off. Ask him yourself.” 

Angel throws up a few hands in a helpless gesture. “Hello? I can’t? He won’t even look at me!” 

“Sounds like a personal problem I ain’t helping you with.” comes the retort. “I ain’t no match maker. If you wanna get flirty and lose your head, it’s none of my business. I gave you warnings.” 

Angel runs a hand through his hair, mussing it in a show of exasperation as he groans loudly. 

“ _Ugh_ … Fuckin figures I’d be into some cute deer boy Overlord who could snap me out of existence just like _that_.” 

Angel snaps his fingers to illustrate and then brings his martini back up to his lips. He pauses to consider something, however, and asks Husk another question or three. 

“You at least agree he’s nice to look at, though, right?” Angel takes a sip of his drink and hums. “You even into dudes? Deers?” 

“Not answering that.” 

“That sure is an odd choice of words, Angel dear!” 

Husk spits out his drink and Angel nearly spills his as the subject of the hour himself suddenly appears atop one of the bar stools, startling them both into near heart attacks. Radio static buzzes around them as Alastor tilts his head, toothy smile just as wide and unnerving as per the usual (if not a bit moreso). His red eyes are wide and glowing with a deathly curiosity and drill holes into Angel in an accusatory stare. 

“ ‘ _Cute_ ’, am I?” Alastor continues, repeating Angel’s description of him with an odd lilt in his tone. Radio feedback makes the word hiss passed his lips and Angel can’t tell if he’s angry or not because he’s not at all familiar with the man’s moods, but the way the radio crackles makes him seem very affronted. “That’s quite a claim, my dear! Why, out of all the things I’ve heard people say, that’s the silliest one to date! I’m impressed!” 

_‘Oh, yeah, he’s pissed.’_ Angel thinks and tugs at his bowtie, offering Alastor a nervous chuckle in return. _‘The one time he doesn’t ignore me and I put him off even more. Go me!’_

Alastor’s piercing stare makes a cold shiver trickle down Angel’s spine and his fur stand on end from the unwavering scrutiny. Here he was trying to figure out a way to get Alastor to stop ignoring him and now he has his undivided attention and it’s the worst thing in all the nine circles of Hell. Mostly because he can tell Alastor is some ungodly level of unhappy with him, but a little because, well, it’s kind of hot. 

Fuck, fuck, and _fuck_. 

(Which are three separate emotions and none of which Alastor will ever entertain him with.) 

Radio feedback crackles and pops and hums between them as Alastor leans just a bit closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. He doesn't even blink. It’s quite a skill, even for the dead. 

“Why _ever_ would you think something like that, I wonder?” he asks and Angel gulps. 

He’s made his bed and now he has to lie in it. He didn’t expect the topic of his conversation and thoughts to just up and appear out of the ether, either, but he sure did do just that... 

Well, fuck it. It’s not _his_ fault he finds Alastor attractive and there’s no point in lying about it, especially now. Maybe if he just explains that he has no ill intentions and genuinely wants to maybe get along then Alastor will- 

Husk disrupts his train of thought and building confidence by snorting and when Angel looks, he’s grinning again and rather smugly at that. 

“You’re _actually_ embarrassed.” he says with an incredulous chuckle and Alastor’s head whips around so fast that his neck makes a sickening, audible crack. Husk is wholly unfazed, however. “Unbelievable… Maybe I outta hang out with you more, Angie. You’re a real riot!” 

The radio feedback increases shrilly like the dial is being continually tuned into the wrong stations and Alastor’s smile stretches even further, strained and taut like he’s desperately trying to overcompensate for a mood he suddenly has no control over. And all Angel can do is stare and take all this in because hunh?? You’re telling him that this is just Alastor being _embarrassed_? 

What the fuck, that’s _adorable_??? 

Angel covers his face with a pair of his hands and smothers the urge to giggle or squeal or whatever it is this bubbly feeling inside his chest is telling him to do. He feels like he could die but in a fluffy way. Which isn’t a bad way to go, all things considered. 

“ _Husker_ , that’s utter _nonsense_!” Alastor’s tone of voice doesn’t change all that much, but he does sound a bit higher than usual. “Nothing more than a piffle! Don’t fill our effeminate friend’s mind with such _vulgar_ thoughts!” 

Husk just keeps grinning. “Then stop being embarrassed about it. Just take the damn compliment or whatever, you fucking drama queen.” 

Alastor huffs and closes his eyes briefly, just long enough to settle down the radio feedback and still whatever emotion is causing the static flare up. It gives Angel time to peek at him from between his fingers and he commits it all to memory, filing it away for later pondering and planning to further endear himself to Alastor’s favour. 

Because he still wants to. Now more than ever, honestly. 

“So be it.” Alastor says once he opens his eyes again. The radio frequencies aren’t quite as erratic as they were previously, but there’s still a noticeable squeal to them that Angel can’t help but be amused by. “Angel, dear. I have been informed that I should accept your...compliment.” 

Alastor hesitates to call it as such, looking a bit perturbed. But he carries on and out of respect (and so as to not irritate the already irate Radio Demon even more), Angel uncovers his face and waits for him to finish. 

“So you have my thanks...but no.” 

Angel can’t help himself and snorts because there it is again. There’s that little “no” being quickly tossed out. It’s cute and ah, _fuck_. Alastor has no right to be so creepy yet do endearing things like that. 

“No problem, sugar.” Alastor’s head tilts slightly at the endearment but Angel ignores it. “And hey, just to clear the air, sorry about the dick sucking thing before. I didn’t know you had anything against it. Won’t happen again, babe.” 

“...indeed.” 

If the radio frequency fluctuates again, no one decides to call attention to it. 


	2. don't kiss the cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor likes to cook and whips up a little dish for breakfast that has the whole kitchen smelling, dare someone say, “divine”. The fact he looks very pretty while doing it is just a bonus that Angel doesn't take for granted.

Soft humming and a tantalizing, savory aroma that makes Angel’s mouth water like a dam bursting drifts through the cracks in the kitchen doors and fills the foyer and nearby hallways with an atmosphere that’s unlike anything else in Hell. The hotel is meant to be a place for cleansing one’s sins, a place where even the most loathsome of demons can find redemption and salvation and hope for a truly better tomorrow. And while some small part of Angel wanted to believe in the cause, there was nothing really there aside from Charlie’s endless cheer and kindness that gave him any reason to believe. The free room in exchange for nothing more than a flimsy promise of following the rules had been the main draw, in the beginning. It also helped that Charlie shoved a large sum of cold, hard cash into his hands and hey, he’ll do anything for money, you know? 

But the state of the hotel was… Well, it was pretty pathetic, to say the least. No other residents, no real food aside from a handful of random items like popsies or leftover takeout, and it was far too big and quiet with only three people living inside of it. But then Alastor appeared like a phantom crawling out of a hellscape void and brought along Niffty and Husk and suddenly the hotel was filled with a lot more life than it had ever seen in a long, long time. Their little trio of failure was suddenly a sloppily put together “family” of six and despite Alastor’s fearsome reputation and Overlord status, he actually made good on his word and truly did improve the hotel for very little in return. And now there’s this smell and this humming with an undertone of radio feedback and soft jazz that’s making the hotel feel almost inviting, homey even. It makes Angel feel a sense of longing for a long-gone home he hasn’t had in decades. 

“What the fuck, that smells _amazing!_ What-” 

Angel enters the kitchen to investigate but pauses, words quickly dying on his lips as he fully takes in the scene of Alastor (fearsome demon that he is) standing at an old-fashioned, cast-iron stovetop with his sleeves rolled up and a skillet in his hands. His pinstriped jacket is gone (having been carefully set aside in a neat fold far away from the stove) and his hair has been pulled back into a cute little ponytail that Angel is dying to poke. There’s a soft, unusually pleasant smile playing along his lips and the whole image is enough to make Angel shamelessly stare in an awed silence. 

Because _wow_. What a picture to walk in on… Who knew the guy could look so disarmingly charming by doing something so simple as cooking a meal? 

_‘Damn.’_ Angel thinks and tugs at his bowtie, both sets of hands a bit fidgety. _‘And I thought he was good lookin before… This is just unfair!’_

Alastor turns after tossing some sort of seasoning into the skillet and tilts his head curiously, pleasant humming and the jazz undercurrent disappearing much to Angel’s disappointment. 

“Ah, Angel, dear. Good morning!” Alastor greets. The soft smile he had before is gone, too, as it stretches into something more like one of his usual grins. It’s more of a disappointment but probably something Angel wasn’t meant to see to begin with. “It’s unusual to see you up this early. Busy day ahead?” 

Angel offers a shrug and sets a hand on his hip while another fluffs up his hair. “Eh, I got this gig later tonight with Val and I gotta get myself prepared. Gotta have the perfect outfit and do a little rehearsal, ya know?” 

Alastor hums, smile turning into something unenthused. “Mn, curious.” 

Angel raises an eyebrow at him. “What is?” 

Alastor gives a tiny shrug of his own and turns back to his cooking. He stirs the meat and veggies simmering away in the skillet before answering. 

“Your work!” he clarifies and Angel’s eyebrow rises higher. “To my understanding, this Valentino fellow isn’t someone particularly pleasant to work with! One has to wonder why you do, especially since you seek redemption. Doesn’t the very nature of it go against that desire of yours?” 

Ah. Well, it’s not like Angel has much of a choice. Val isn’t someone you just say “no” to without consequences. Angel has the mental scars to prove it. Still, he likes to think he can fight back in just the right ways and still be useful enough to warrant a little extra freedom in his personal life. 

But that’s not something he’s going to tell Alastor. 

“What can I say? I like sex. That a crime?” Angel answers with instead. He even grins and fluffs up his chest to further sell the half-truth. Alastor doesn’t notice it, but his shoulders do stiffen up a little in response. “This kind of job fits me to a T and me an Val get along just fine! If some ugly freak’s got an issue with him, it ain’t my problem. He treats me just right.” 

Radio static flares briefly with a subtle squeal. “...if you say so.” 

It seems like every time Angel gets a little too friendly or talks about sex, Alastor’s radio static has a panic attack and Angel is a little amused by it. Alastor himself sounds unconvinced with Angel’s explanation, but he doesn't argue. He probably doesn’t really care in the grand scheme of things, but it’s not a big deal to Angel. It’s not like they’re friends or anything. 

_Yet._

“I _know so,_ babe.” Angel continues and decides to join Alastor by the stove. 

He’s pretty sure it used to be more modern. In fact, he swears the entire kitchen used to be a lot more nonexistent than it is now. Alastor’s doing, perhaps? He peeks over the smaller demon’s shoulder and only then notices Alastor has another pot of something cooking alongside the meat and veggie mixture. 

“Man, Al, what are you even cooking that smells so _good_? You got me dying of hunger here and I wasn’t even that hungry before I came in!” 

Alastor’s smile looks a bit strained with Angel being so near, but he doesn’t try to move away (probably only because doing so would mean abandoning his cooking). Angel is being careful not to touch him, but maybe his aversion to touch is even worse than Husk had him believing because the guy is _rigid_. 

“Grillades and grits!” Alastor supplies and Angel “oohhhs” as Alastor stirs the pot of yellow grits bubbling away. “Was a favourite of my mother’s! She preferred veal, but I’ve had to make do with _pork_ for the time being~ It’s delicious either way!” 

For a hot second, Angel is overcome with an indescribable fear for his precious Fat Nuggets’ safety, but one look at Alastor’s sly grin and amused eyes and Angel can’t resist the urge to softly punch the Overlord’s shoulder for the rude prank. 

“You jerk, my baby’s with Charlie! She wouldn’t let you cook him!” 

He regrets the touch almost immediately, but while Alastor’s radio frequency fluctuates slightly, Alastor does nothing to retaliate and merely laughs to himself instead. 

“Not to fear. It is indeed veal! Charlotte has made it _very_ clear that I’m not allowed to eat the clientele or their pets!” he assures, but Angel has to wonder about it. For all he knows, there really is another demon simmering in that skillet. Alastor doesn’t seem like the type of guy to break promises, but he _is_ an Overlord, after all. Who here could stop him if he did it anyway? “Besides, such a small creature would hardly be enough of a meal for a party of six!” 

_That’s_ his reasoning? 

Angel pouts, idly wondering if this is payback for calling the guy “cute” to his face as he crosses both sets of his arms. “Don’t eat my baby.” 

Alastor laughs again. “Of course not, my dear! You’re our star attraction! I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the hotel’s reputation or my entertainment! You have my word on that~” 

Angel can’t help himself and huffs out a short laugh of his own. “You’re a real asshole, you know that? But seriously. Don’t touch my baby. If anything ever happened to him, I’d kill everyone in this hotel and then myself.” 

Alastor only chuckles in amusement and says nothing more on the subject. He very, very briefly hums a little tune and his stiff shoulders seem to relax somewhat despite Angel still being so close. 

“Care for a taste, my dear?” he asks suddenly and has a spoonful of meat prepped before Angel has a chance to blink. His smile is still sly, but it’s slowly softening around the edges. It’s nice to look at. _Alastor_ is nice to look at. 

Is he maybe warming up to Angel for the time being? Just a little? 

_‘Progress is progress.’_ Angel muses to himself. 

“What, you want me to be your guinea pig?” Angel says and eyes the meat warily. Even with the prospect of it being demon meat fresh on his mind, it still smells downright heavenly. His mouth waters. “W-well, I guess a _little_ bite won’t hurt…” 

Throwing all caution to the wind, he takes the spoon from Alastor’s hand (being extremely careful not to touch him even the slightest bit) and pops the end into his mouth. 

The taste is _extraordinary_. 

Angel’s eyes grow wide and he lets out a pleased moan and a shudder, which has Alastor stiffening up all over again. But Angel ignores it because he can’t help himself. When he’s got something good in his mouth, his natural reaction is to express his pleasure verbally. The meat is so tender and juicy and probably one of the best things he’s ever had the pleasure of eating since dropping down in Hell. 

“Holy _shit_ , Al… Even if there is another demon in there, it’s fuckin _good._ ” Angel praises. He’s happy it tastes nothing like pork. Alastor at least didn’t lie about that. “Ya jambalaya was great, too, but _fuck._ Were you a cook or somethin when alive? This shit is amazing!” 

“Mn. Something like that.” Alastor replies rather cryptically. He turns back to the stove and extinguishes the flame. “Well, your...compliment is all I needed to confirm it’s ready. Be a dear and fetch the others, will you?” 

“Sure thing, sugar~” Angel discards the spoon into a nearby sink and blows a kiss Alastor’s way with one hand while waving with another. “Maybe I outta invite you to my show next week as thanks for the treat~?” 

Angel doesn’t wait for an answer and Alastor doesn’t give one, but there’s a shrill of radio feedback filtering out of the kitchen when he leaves. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very interested in writing an interaction between Valentino and Alastor. Altho I guess it'd be more of a confrontation because I doubt Alastor would put up with Valentino for very long. Might be something to look forward to in the future~


	3. Fat Nuggets is Missing pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fat Nuggets disappears as Angel gradually becomes more and more panicked. Charlotte organizes a search but it’s as if the little pig just up and vanished off the surface of Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a little peek into Alastor's point of view~

“Fat Nuggets? Sweety?” Angel calls out to the empty parlor, expression twisted into pure fear. “Mommy’s right here, sweety! Come out? Please…” 

He rushes through the room in a panic, desperate to find any trace of his beloved pet. He tosses couch cushions, flips over furniture, rummages through the bar cabinets, and even digs through the fireplace with a poker stick, but he finds nothing. There’s no trace of the little pig anywhere. 

“Fat Nuggets?!” 

Angel’s hands visibly shake as they flutter nervously around him. He pulls at his clothes and hair and his teeth gnaw at his fingertips and worry his bottom lip. He’s so consumed by panic that he can’t stay still and even his eyes are on the verge of tearing. 

“This don't make sense… It don’t!” Angel scrubs at his face in a sudden burst of anger and makes a beeline for another room, which just so happened to be the hotel’s office. “H-he was just in my room and next thing I know, he's _gone_? Fat Nuggets?! _Baby?!_ _Please_ come out!” 

“Angel, wait!” Charlotte holds out a hand towards him as Angel dashes away. She’s been trying her hardest to be helpful, even going so far as to organize a search party. But so far, her efforts have been in vain as Angel’s increasingly unstable emotions have begun to explode. “It’ll be okay! Let’s just stay calm and retrace our steps. He couldn’t have gone far!” 

“Stay calm?” Angel repeats, voice somewhat muffled from being in the other room but wholly incredulous. “ _Stay calm??_ You want me to be _calm_ when my baby is lost in some shitty hotel where just anybody can whisk him away an do _horrible_ things to him??” 

A crashing noise sounds from the room as Angel lets out a frustrated sob, finally unable to keep it in any longer. Charlotte is quick to dash in after him, worry coating her features. Curious, Alastor follows along after her but keeps to the doorway, not wanting to get involved more than necessary. Emotions are messy and Alastor isn’t very keen on dealing with the more outlandish ones. 

Peeking into the room, it seems that Angel, in his overly-emotional state, has shoved things off the office desk and flipped the entire desk itself over in the process. Disorganized hotel paperwork, a now broken lamp, and other damaged office supplies that had been neatly arranged before now lay scattered across the floor in an absolute mess. Alastor hums lightly, making a mental note to send in Niffty once the worst of Angel’s breakdown is over. 

“ _How do you expect me to stay calm when this is **Hell**!_” Angel continues, tears staining his fur and ruining his makeup. “ _Ain’t **nobody** in this pit gonna treat my baby right! _What if-...! W-what if some sack of shit demon finds him a-an hurts him?! What am I gonna do then, princess?!” 

Charlotte rushes to gather Angel into her arms as he collapses to the floor in a heap. She runs a hand through his hair gently and rubs his back with her other, her own eyes a bit teary. She doesn’t seem to be mad or insulted by any of the things being spewed at her at all. All she does is pet and make soothing shushing sounds. 

“W-what am I gonna do if I never see him again, Charlie?” Angel sobs. “He’s the only good thing I got goin on for me and I-” 

“ _Shhh._ ” Charlotte interrupts his babbling as she gathers his face in her hands. “We’re going to find him. I promise you we will. I know the hotel is pretty big, but he couldn’t have gone far. With everyone searching, we’re bound to find him soon! Okay?” 

Charlotte has a certain air about her that makes her words affect others in strange ways and it’s evident in the way that Angel’s shoulders relax and his sobs quieten that her charm is working its magic. It’s something of a power only she has, Alastor supposes. Her moods are infectious, her voice is pleasant and enticing like a siren’s call, and when she does so confidently, her smiles ease those around her into feeling a sense of security. 

“Okay?” Charlotte repeats and all Angel can do is sniffle and slowly nod. “Good, good. So come on. I’ll stay with you the whole time and we’ll find Fat Nuggets together, okay?” 

“...okay.” 

Alastor sighs and leans against the doorway, idly twirling his staff around in his hands. He doesn’t particularly care for Angel all that much, but he admits (to himself, at least) that he doesn’t like this sad, depressed side of him. He’s much more fun when he’s his usual self. 

Minus the sexual comments, anyway. Those, Alastor doesn't care for at all. 

“Oh! Alastor!” Charlotte jumps a little in surprise, unaware that he’d been watching the whole time. “I didn’t know you were still here… Hey, uh, do you think you could help us find Fat Nuggets? It would be such a huge help!” 

Angel perks up at the sound of his name, but he looks away when their eyes meet. He’s embarrassed, it seems, as he tries to squish himself further into Charlotte’s arms. 

“...if you’d desire to at all.” Charlotte adds. 

Certainly no potential clients will want to stay at the hotel if its star resident looked this much in despair over a pet disappearing. Any seeds of hope Charlotte managed to plant in other demon’s hearts would instantly shrivel up and die before ever managing to grow and that would ruin everything. Alastor needs to protect his investment and whatever trivial thing that involves doing (such as finding a lost little pig), he’ll do it. Helping Angel to feel better has absolutely nothing to do with the fact Alastor doesn’t like the way Angel frowns like his entire world has been ripped from underneath his feet. Or the fact Angel just generally looks nicer with a smile. It’s purely business. 

(His microphone choses that moment to wake up and stares at him, for some reason looking oddly disbelieving. But Alastor can’t imagine why and so turns the little eye away to ignore whatever implications its stare could mean.) 

“Well, my dear, I suppose I must!” he says and a wide grin is quick to cross Charlotte’s lips. “We can’t have our star attraction looking so glum and hopeless so soon! That would ruin the whole setup I’m building! My investment would be for naught and we can’t have that, now can we? We need a success story to draw in more demons, so this simply won’t do!” 

Charlotte’s smile dims a bit and while she still looks hopeful, it’s in an unsure way. “R-riiiight… Ah, you hear that, Angel? Al’s going to help us search, so we’ll definitely find him now! I’m _sure_ of it.” 

Angel sniffles again. He’s still cuddled up to Charlotte like he’s trying to hide from Alastor’s gaze. 

“How do we know he didn’t eat him?” Angel asks and while his voice is weak from crying, the underlining accusatory tone is still there loud and clear. “I know he made you some promise about not doin it before, but-” 

Alastor interrupts him with a chuckle. “No, no, my dear! I assure you that if I were the perpetrator... The _murderer_ , as you would put it... _You would already know~_ ” 

His head tilts slightly and his eyes glow faintly as his smile widens, almostly deathly so. Charlotte and Angel say nothing in response. 

“So! Angel, my dear!” Alastor continues, snapping back to his usual mood and smile faster than anyone can blink. He wanders into the room and bends down a bit to offer a hand to Angel. “If I am to help you recover your Nugget Fat-” 

“Fat Nuggets.” Angel corrects and eyes Alastor’s hand suspiciously rather than take it. “Listen, I already admitted to liking ya, but I know betta than to accept deals from just anyone with a pretty face.” 

Alastor's radio static grows heavier and he pauses, stilling. Unsure what to do with the information Angel’s “compliment” gives him. He almost takes back his offered hand and retracts the offer to help search entirely, but he stops himself and forces out a chuckle instead. 

“Not to worry, my dear. This isn’t a deal. Just a leg up.” he assures. “Unless you wish to continue clinging to Charlotte like you are. In which case, I’ll leave you to it!” 

Charlotte and Angel share a look before Angel quickly untangles himself from her, offering her a weak laugh and an embarrassed little smile in apology. 

“Uh, right. Sorry about that…” he says and reluctantly takes Alastor’s offered hand. 

Charlotte, for some reason, watches their interaction with a growing smile. She stands at the same time Angel does and offers him a little pat before taking a step back from them both. Her smile, while still the same, seems like it’s hiding secrets and Alastor isn’t certain what to make of it. 

“Is there a problem, my dear?” 

“Oh, not at all!” she assures him and waves her hands at him quickly with a shake of her head. “I’m just happy to see the two of you getting along~” 

Alastor’s head tilts, a touch of confusion making his smile strain. He’s not sure why, but he gets the feeling there’s been a misunderstanding somewhere. Just what is going through her head right now? 

Charlotte giggles and takes a few overexaggerated steps towards the doorway. “Welp, I better get to searching! Don’t want to be a third wheel. Since Al here is gonna help, I’ll let you two search together instead! We’ll cover _waaaay_ more ground that way.” 

Angel speaks up, sounding startled and strangely shy. “W-wait, wait, _wait!_ ” 

“Don’t worry, Angel!” she says and gives him a double thumbs up and eyes something between them with interest. “I’m pretty sure you’re in good hands~” 

It’s not until after she’s gone that Alastor realizes he and Angel are still holding hands. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Charlie has the wrong idea... Or does she? Hrm~
> 
> Now is a good time to mention I'll be switching between Angel's and Alastor's POVs in different one-shots. There's not going to be a pattern to it honestly. Just whatever I'm feeling for whatever I write is what I'll go with lol. That said, the next one-shot will be in Alastor's POV again! So you can expect that next time!


End file.
